


POI Miscellanea

by Bonnie131313



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, F/F, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7480023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonnie131313/pseuds/Bonnie131313
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>some short Person of Interest ficlets</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Bear and Bird](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6476098) by [Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko). 



> This is set in the Bear and Bird au created by the fabulous Zoi No Miko. It was originally written as a birthday gift for her.

“Happy Birthday, little bird.” Nathan whispers in his ear and Lajardis echoes in her soft rumble.

“It’s not really my birthday.” Not that Harold is refusing his lover’s kisses and caresses.

“Of course it isn’t.” Nathan smiles as he pushes the hem of Harold’s tee shirt up. “Why would you ever use your real birthday?” He gives Harold’s nipple a friendly lick. “You know what this mean?”

“Oh,” Harold gasps happily and pulls Nathan closer, tugging at his lover’s clothing. He is vaguely aware of Athenea and Lajardis cuddling closer to them on the big bed. “What does it mean?” 

“We’re just going to have to celebrate like this every morning to make sure.” Nathan is tugging Harold’s pajama pants down. Harold, Athenea and Lajardis all laugh.

“I have no problems with that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it just a coincidence?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written as a birthday present for the lovely and talented Zoi No Miko

There is no way Mr. Reese could know. Finch is sure that he has never let a clue slip as to the significance of the date. Nor is a date of any special significance to Harold Wren, or Harold Martin or Harold Crane, or any of his other aliases.

“What is this, Mr. Reese?” He asks, pointing to the platter. John glances up from the stove.

“It’s a cake, Finch.” He announces solemnly. His face and tone of voice perfectly deadpan.

“I was inquiring as to the occasion.” Harold retorts, giving John a mild glare. There was no way Reese could know. He thought that the invitation to dinner had been spur of the moment. They’d finished with the number and he’d suggested they get some dinner. John had told him he had gotten some scallops from Fulton’s that morning and why didn’t Harold come over to the loft and John would make them dinner. It wasn’t the first time Mr. Reese had cooked for them, so Finch had agreed without thinking twice.

“No occasion,” John turns his attention back to the various saucepans bubbling on the stove. “I stopped in the bakery to pick up a loaf of bread and they had blueberry cake on special. It looked good and I figured we deserved a treat after that last number.”

Finch considers that for a moment. There last number had been a bit more trying than usual and the cake does look good.

“Thank you, Mr. Reese.” He says finally. “That is very nice of you.”

He is remembering his grandparent’s farm back in Iowa. Going with his grandmother to the pick blueberries down by the creek and afterwards she’d make his favorite blueberry cake. He remembers sitting at the kitchen table watching the candles glow while his family sings ‘Happy Birthday, Harold.'


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the mayhem twins talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted on Tumblr

The thing Sameen likes best about John is that he treats her like the professional she is. She’s dealt with people who thought her gender made her less than she really is. They’ve usually regretted it, but it’s still a pain in the ass. John Reese doesn’t give a shit. that she’s female. As long as she can do the job, he seems to feel the whole thing is moot.

“I’ve worked with women before.” He’d reminds her when she remarks on it.

She snorts and he sighs.

“Yeah, men are assholes.” He agrees dryly. “Now Finch’s intel says there shouldn’t be more than ten of them. If I were running it, I’d leave a couple of guys to guard the front and go in through the alley.”

“We ought to have time to jack a car.” She answers pulling out the map Harold had drawn for them showing the building.” If we park it here they’ll have to move one at a time. Me back by the dumpster while you move in behind them.”

“I’ve got some C4.” He offers. “We could rig the car to blow when they start moving past it.”

“Why Mr. Reese, you do know how to show a girl a good time.” She grins.

“Why Ms. Shaw.” He returns the smile. “I do try.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw has a wardrobe malfunction. Harold is not amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted on Tumblr

When John gets back to the library, Finch and Shaw are arguing, so hey, business as usual. 

“It was completely unnecessary.”

“We need a distraction, I provided one.” Shaw sounds almost amused by Harold’s fussing. Which John supposes is good. He’s in no mood to play referee again.

“It was extremely inappropriate.” Harold looks like an annoyed cockatoo. “I would prefer you employ some other method of distraction in the future.”

“Whatever.” Shaw snort and stomps off into the ammo closet. Harold gives an exasperated hrumph and limps off to his computer. 

“Do I want to know?” Reese asks Lionel who is placidly finishing off the leftover fried rice.

“Couple of goons cornered us and the number.” Fusco tells him. “Shaw decided a ‘wardrobe malfunction’ would make a good distraction.”

“Oh,” John pokes through the boxes until he finds the potstickers. “How’d that work?”

“They nearly dropped their guns.” Lionel hands him a wrapped set of chopsticks.

“Hey.” John greets Sameen when she emerges from the closet. “You heading out?”

“Yeah.” She eyes him thoughtfully. “You going to lecture me too?”

“I wasn’t there, but you’re a pro. You think the situation called for it…” Reese shrugs. “I’m not going to argue if it works and nobody gets hurt.”

Shaw considers this for a moment. “Thanks.” She says finally and starts to turn toward the door.

“Shaw,” She turns when John calls her back. “Just for the record, I am never asking you to do anything like that.”

“You’d better not.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has trouble with ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted on Tumblr

“Weren’t you in the Army?” Shaw demands. Harold is still in the men’s room putting on his own suit and John has made five attempts already.

“What does that have to do with anything?” John studies the latest results. Maybe if he buttons his suit no one will notice the skinny end is slightly longer than the fat end.

“Didn’t you have to wear a tie with your Dress Blues?” Shaw asks. “Tell me your sergeant didn’t have to tie your tie for you?”

Before John can lie to her, Finch emerges from the bathroom and sighs.

“Come here, Mr. Reese.”

Shaw smirks as John shuffles over to Finch and lets the older man re-tie his tie. John stands there stoically while Harold fusses over him. 

“That will have to do.” Finch says finally, brushing the microscopic spec of lint off John’s lapel. “Thank you for taking Bear this evening, Ms. Shaw.”

“No problem.” Shaw tells him. Behind Harold, Reese in running his hand down the front of his chest. His head is down but Sameen can see the small happy smile on his face. Oh ho, is that what it’s about?

“The driver should be downstairs in a minute.” Harold announces after checking his watch. “Come along, Mr. Reese.”

Harold heads for the stairs with John trailing behind. Shaw grabs Reese’s arm as he passes her.

“What?” Reese asks impatiently.

“I bet he’d enjoy undressing you more.” Shaw hisses, nodding to where Finch is waiting.

John wrenches his arm out of her grip and hurries after Harold. Reese does blush beautifully, Shaw decides watching them go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did a farm boy from Iowa become the sophisticated Mr. Finch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted on Tumblr

When Harold had started at MIT he was the son of a small farmer from a small rural town. It was the first time he’d been more than fifty miles from Lassiter. He’d never been to a museum. Never eaten out anywhere more sophisticated than a diner. Everything he knew about the wider world, was from books. He had a great deal to learn.

In many ways he was lucky to have roomed with Nathan. The Ingram's weren’t anything like billionaires but they were comfortably off. Much better off than Harold’s family had ever been. 

Not that Nathan was a snob. He might own his very own fitted tuxedo but he ran around the campus in faded levis and tee-shirts. He liked fancy steak dinners and expensive liqueurs but he also liked peanut butter sandwiches and Dr Pepper. His father might have bought him his very own Camaro in honor of graduating high school but Nathan had left in back in Texas and used the bus or the T when he wanted to go anywhere.

Still, Nathan had been the first person to provide Harold with a decent glass of wine after discovering him dubiously sipping Ripple at a dorm party. He’d also been the one to take Harold to his first fancy restaurant and buy Harold his first decent suit because the only one Harold owned was an old one that had belonged to his father. Nathan had also been the one to drag Harold to a good barber because it hurts me to see you with that haircut, Harold.

Nathan hadn’t been the one to introduce Harold to classical music. That had been Robert J. Lurtsema on the local public radio station that Harold had discovered by accident while looking for the weather report. A Radcliffe student who was interning at the Boston Symphony Hall had added significantly to his education.

Harold’s initiation to fine art had come from a lecture on the Fibonacci Sequence in his Mathematical Theory class the day before the MFA had offered free admission for the day. Harvard’s museums had encouraged his interest.

Harold had been introduced to Sencha Green Tea by a very pretty Japanese student who had sat next to him during an all day seminar on Programming Languages. 

Harold had discovered Rome when he’d been offered the chance to spend a summer semester at the Università degli Studi Guglielmo Marconi. A friendly student from Venice had showed him around the city and introduced him to a very sympathetic tailor which had allowed Harold to purchase his second decent suit.

Foreign movies had come about when he was dating an very handsome Film and Visual Arts student at Harvard.

Books, well books were old friends. The tiny library in Lassiter Iowa didn’t have a big selection but they did have all the classics and through some kind of special loaning programming, they could get ahold of just about any book Harold might ever want to read. MIT’s libraries had been even more impressive. He also got cards for the Cambridge Library as well as Boston Public. Cambridge is full of bookstores and Harold had begun his own collection there.

The Harold who leaves Cambridge is very different from the Harold who had arrived.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a photograph of John's family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is angsty. Also, originally posted on Tumblr

John never knew his sister. Sophie was a name and a handful of photographs. 

He’d only asked about her once and Mommy had looked like she was going to cry. Daddy had taken him into his bedroom and explained that the little girl in the photos was his sister Sophie and she had died before John was born. 

John had never asked about her again but sometimes he would retrieve the album from it’s place on the shelf in the dining room and study the photos intently. 

What would she have been like? Would she be fun like Lisa down the street who likes playing kickball and climbing trees? Maybe she would be boring like Julie, who only likes to play house or with her silly dolls. 

She would be seven years older than him if she alive. She’d be the same age as Paul’s oldest brother. Pete’s in middle school. Would she want to play with John if she were around? Pete will sometimes play catch with him and Paul but mostly he likes hanging around with his own friends. 

Does he miss her? He wonders. Mommy misses her, anyone can see that, and Daddy too but does he? He didn’t ever know her. Is it possible to miss someone you never knew? He’d like to ask someone but he doesn’t want to upset Mommy and Daddy’s away again.

When he leaves for the army, John has just enough time to sneak a photo out of the album and have a copy made for himself. It goes with him everywhere. He has it through basic, through Ranger training, through Special Forces training. It is with him throughout all five of his deployments, in Iraq and in Afghanistan. It was with him in Mexico. He kept it hidden from Kara and Mark while he’s in the CIA. It is with him when he is living drunk on the streets of New York. When Finch offers him a job, the photograph is the only thing John takes with him. Number after number and the photograph is still with him. It is tucked safely in his wallet when he’s on the rooftop on the last day of his life.

It is found on the street in the aftermath of the missile attack - faded, bloody and battered. It shows a young soldier in uniform with one arm around a pretty woman and the other holding a little girl. On the back is written “Conor, Margaret and Sophie.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John discovers something about Finch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr

Like many things he’d rather not think about, John first discovered the BDSM scene when he was in the CIA. It didn’t bother him exactly but he didn’t find it particularly enticing either. 

“Just as well,” Mark Snow had told him. “You're less likely to be distracted by having too much fun.” Reese had snorted but he had to admit it made sense. He could fake enthusiasm while still keeping his mind on the job, so he ended up being the point man when a case called for it.

He hadn’t thought about it years, not until Finch had remarked that their latest number seemed to be an avid practitioner.

“Yeah? In what way?” John had asked sorting through the intel Finch had already acquired about the number. He’s not seeing any red flags in the guy’s business life.

“He has a fondness for being tied up and spanked.” John raises a brow at the disapprobation in Finch’s tone. 

“You have a problem with that, Harold?” He asks. Finch gives him one of his looks.

“The act itself? No. But, hiring unknown and un-vetted professionals to come into his home and incapacitate him at his own request? That I consider foolish in the extreme.” John has to agree.

“Ah, that explains the payments to Nightlife Services Inc.” John flips through the records. “He seems to have been using them pretty regularly for the past few years without any trouble.” Still, they should check it out. The turnover at those places is high, something he and Kara had used to their advantage. 

“It’s not even as if it would be difficult for him to meet a like-minded individual if he wants to indulge.” Finch is still fuming over the number’s lack of security consciousness. “There are seventeen reputable clubs in Manhattan that he could go to get exactly what he wants safely.”

“Uh huh,” John grunts his agreement before it occurs to him that seventeen is a pretty specific number. 

He turns so he can look at the other man. “Finch?” When Harold turns toward him, John asks, “Did you know about those clubs before the machine gave you this number?”

“Does it matter, Mr. Reese?” Finch’s expression is cool and his voice is even but John see the faintest traces of chagrin. He realizes he’s revealed more to John than he intended but that’s the extent of his embarrassment Whatever Harold has to do with those clubs, he’s not ashamed.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” John turns back to the records. The number comes first, he can consider the implications of Finch’s expertise afterwards.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Primal Emotions and Sameen Shaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has angst too. Also, originally posted on Tumblr

Fear

Sure she’s afraid at times because it would be dumb not to be. The Marines taught her how to fight and the ISA taught her how to fight dirty. That doesn’t mean she can’t be defeated. She’s been beaten by better fighters, by superior numbers and by sheer bad luck. So she takes reasonable precautions and pays attention to what’s going on around her. Still, she’s never been paralyzed by fear. Fear is something she can use to give her a little extra jolt when it’s needed, that’s all.

 

Anger

She knows that several people think anger is the only emotion she ever feels. In some ways anger is the easiest but, even then, she rarely gets worked up the way she sees other people do. Annoyed and irritated sure, but it’s rarely rage. Rage is saved for special occasions: Cole’s death, Samaritan's mind games, Root’s death.

 

Happiness

It’s not like she’s never been happy but she has to admit she’s never felt ecstatic either. Satisfied, content, untroubled; are they the same thing as being happy? She can never quite decide. Even the best moments she can remember feeling little more than pleased. Still, there are many times she’s been pleased, that has to count for something. A good meal, good booze, a job well done, playing with the dog, the rush from driving a fast car, being honestly appreciated by someone she respects, finally escaping Samaritan, sex, kissing Root.

 

Sadness

She knows she’s supposed to feel sad. She’s not sure she does. Maybe when her father was killed? Though no one else thought so. When Cole was killed she felt angry. When Root died she felt angry. Only it’s not the hot rage she knew with Cole’s death, this anger is icy cold. Is it because of what Samaritan did to her? Or, did she care more for Root than she imagined she could?

Then Reese dies and Harold leaves and she’s not angry anymore. Samaritan is destroyed. Greer, Lambert and Blackwell are dead. Her anger fades away without a focus. What is left? She feels something. Is this sadness?


End file.
